[Christmas carols] 1528 Approx. 16 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 10 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2013-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2). A18696 STC 5204.3 ESTC S290 22220351 ocm 22220351 25242

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A18696) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 25242) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1748:31) [Christmas carols] [19] p. : ill. P.Treveris, [Southwark : 1528?] Title suggested by STC (2nd ed.). Imprint suggested by STC (2nd ed.). Signatures: A¹⁰. Without music. Imperfect: torn, with slight loss of print. Reproduction of original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.

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 eng Carols, English. 2020-09-21 Content of 'availability' element changed when EEBO Phase 2 texts came into the public domain 2012-06 Assigned for keying and markup 2012-06 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2012-07 Sampled and proofread 2012-07 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2013-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

depiction of the risen Christ

Gaudeamꝰ ſynge we ī hoc ſacro tꝑe Puer nobis natus ē ex Maria virgine ¶Mary moder come and ſe Thy ſone is nayled on a tre Hande and fote he may not go His body is wrapped all in wo ¶ Vpon a tre nayled he is To brynge vs all to heuen blyſſ For Adam that dyde amyſſe For an aple that was ſo fre ¶ From his heed vnto his too His ſkynne is torne and fleſſke alſo His body is bothe wanne and blo And nayled he is on a tre ¶ Thy louely ſone that thou haſt borne Is crowned with a crowne of thorne To ſaue mankynde that was but lorne And brynge man but to his liberte ¶ whan Iohan this tale began to tell Mary wolde no lenger dwell But went amonge the Iewes fell where ſhe myght her ſone ſe ¶ My ſwete ſone that arte me dere why hangeſt thou on rode here Thy hede is wrythen all in a brere Louely ſone what may this be. ¶ Moder to Iohan I the betake Iohan kepe this woman for my ſake On rode I am emendes to make For ſynfull man as ye may ſe. ¶ This game of loue I muſt play For mannes ſoule it is no nay There is no man that goth by the way But on my body he may haue pyte ¶ This payne yt men haue me wrought For ſynfull ſoules I haue it bought Of all this ſmerte yet rewe I nought If man wolde be kynde to me. ¶ My blode coleth my fleſhe doth fall I am athryſt after drynke I call They gyue me eylyll menged with gall A wors drinke may there be none. ¶ Fader my ſoule to the I betake. My body dyeth for mannes ſake To hell I muſt without en make Mankynde for to make fre ¶ God that deyed for vs all Borne of a mayde in an oxe ſtall Graunt vs his realme celeſtyall Amen / amen / for charyte. Finis.
¶ Of ſaynt Steuen ¶ To ſaynt Steuē wyll we pray To pray for vs bothe nyght and day OF ſaynt Steuen goddes knyght That preched ye fayth day & nyght He tolde the Iewes as it was ryght That Chryſt was borne of a may. ¶ The Iewes ſayd in grete ſcorne That Chriſt was not of a mayde borne Than ſayd Steuen ye are but lorne ¶ And all that beleue in your lay. ¶ Now is ſpronge the welle of lyfe Of Mary moder mayde and wyfe Therfore the Iewes fell at ſtryfe ¶ And with ſteuē thā dyſpu • ed they. ¶ The wycked Iewes at the laſt Stones at Steuen they gan caſt His hed and armes they all to braſt And made his body in foule aray. ¶ Steuen that was full mylde of mode Thought he were all reed in blode In his prayers ſtyll he ſtode And cryeng to good thus he dyde ſay ¶ Lorde god for thy myghtfull grace Forgyue the Iewes theyr treſpace And gyue theym grace to ſe thy face In the Ioye that laſteth aye. ¶ To heuen he loketh ſoone on hye To the father and ſone truly And to the holy gooſt he gan cry Receyue my ſoule I the pray. ¶ God receyued his boone anone Downe came aungeles many one They toke his ſoule & to heuē dyd gone To blyſſedneſſe that laſteth ay. ¶ To that blyſſe that is ſo goode Them that dyed vpon the roode Graunt vs for his precyous bloode Our ſaluacyon at domes day. ¶ Finis.
¶ Of ſaynt Iohn̄. ¶ Pray for vs to god on hye Blyſſed ſaynt Iohan and our lady. O Bleſſyd Iohan t • e euangelyſt Ryght dere beloued of Ieſu cryſt The preuyte of heuē in erthe thou wyſt As touchynge to the trynyte. ¶ That prynce that is withouten pere To Iohan he toke his mode dere All whyle • he lyued in erthe here That vyrgyns were bothe he and ſhe. ¶ This noble Iohan that we of rede Informed vz of Chryſtes dede The whyle that he on erthe yede In his goſpell ſo fynde we. ¶ whan Chryſton croſſe hanged ſo hy He ſayd vnto his moder Mary Lo there thy ſone ſtandynge the by ¶ And ſe thy moder Iohan ſayd he ¶ Nowe pray we to this ſaynt echone For vs to pray to god in trone Out of this lyfe whan we ſhall gone To ſe hym in his mayeſte ¶ Finis.
¶ A caroll of the Innocentes. ¶ Marke this ſonge for it is trewe For it is trewe as clerkes tell. In olde tyme ſtraūg thyngꝭ cam to pas Grete wonder & grete meruayll was In Iſraell. ¶ There was one Octauyan Octauyan of Rome Emperour. As bokes olde doth ſpecyfye Of all the wyde worlde trulye. He was lorde and gouernour. ¶ The Iewes that tyme lackyd a kyng They lackyd a kyng to gyde them well The Emperour of power and myght Choſe one Herode agaynſt all ryght In Iſraell. This Herode thā was kyng of Iewys was kyng of Iewys & he no Iewe For ſothe he was a panym borne wherfore on fayth it may be ſworne He reygned kynge vntrewe. ¶ By propheſye one Iſay One I ſay / at leſt dyd tell A chylde ſholde come wōderous newys yt ſhold be borne trewe kyng of Iewys In Iſraell. This Herode knew one borne ſhold be One borne ſholde be of trewe lenage That ſholde be ryght herytour For he but by the Emperour was made by vſurpage. wherfore of throught this kyng Herode This kynge Herode in grete fere fell For all the days moſt in his myrth Euer he fered Chryſtes byrth In Iſrahell. ¶ The tyme came it pleaſed god It pleaſed god ſo to come ſo pas For mannes ſoule in dede His blyſſed ſone was borne wyth ſpede As his wyll was ¶ Tydynges came to kynke Herode To kynge Herode / and dyd hym tell That one borne forſoth is he whiche lorde and kynge of all ſhall be In Iſraell. ¶ Herode thā raged as he were woode As he were wode of this tydynge And ſent for all his ſerybes ſure yet wolde he not truſt the ſcrypture Nor of theyr councellynge. ¶ Than this was the concluſyon The concluſyon of his councell To ſende vnto his knyghtes anone To ſle the chylderne euerychone In Iſraell. ¶ This cruell kynge this tyranny This tyranny dyd put in vre Bytwene a day and yeres too All men chylderne he dyd ſloo Of Cryſt for to be ſure. ¶ Yet Herode myſſed his cruell pray His cruell pray as was goddes wyll Ioſeph with Mary than dyd fle with Chryſt to Egypt gone was ſhe From Iſraell. ¶ All this whyle this tyrantes This tyrantes wolde not cōuert But innocentes yonge That lay ſokynge They thryſt to the herte. ¶ This Herode ſought the chyldren This chyldren yonge with corage fell But in doynge thys vengeaunce His owne ſone was ſlayne by chaunce In Iſraell. ¶ Alas I thynke the moders were wo The moders were wo it was grete ſkyl what motherly payne To ſe them ſlayne In cradels lyeng ſtyll: ¶ But god hym ſelfe hath theym electe Hath theym electe / in heuyn to dwell. For they were bathed in theyr blode For theyr baptym for ſoth it ſtode In Iſraell. ¶ Alas agayne what hartes had they what hartꝭ had they thoſe babes to kyll with ſwerdes whan they hym caught In cradels they lay and laught And neuer thought yll. ¶ Finis.
This was the tenour of her talkynge Timor morris conturbat me. ¶ I aſked that byrde what ſhe ment I am a … et fayre & gent For fere of deths I am all ſhent Timor morris conturbat me ¶ Whan I ſhall dye I know no day Contrey nor place I can not ſay Wherfore this longe ſynge I may Timor mortis conturbat me. ¶ Ieſu chryſte whan he ſholde dye To his father gan he crye Father he ſayd in trynyte Timor mortis conturbat me ¶ All chryſten people beholde & ſe This worlde is but a vauyte For therin is but neceſſyte Timor mortis conturbat me. ¶ Wake or ſlepe / eat or drynke whan I on my laſt ende do thynke For great fere my ſoule doth ſynke Timor mortis conturbat me. ¶ Finis.
Bleſſyd Stephan we the praye Pro nobis preres funde I Shall you tell this ylke nyght Of ſaynt Stephan goddes knyght He tolde the Iewes that it was ryght That Cryſt was borne of a mayde Bleſſyd Stephan. &c. ¶ Then ſayd the Iewes wt grete ſcorne That goddes ſone myght not be borne Stephan ſayd ye be forlorne And all that byleueth on that lay Bleſſyd Stephan. &c. ¶ This Stephā whā he was moſtꝑfyte In Cryſtes lawe illumynate The Iewes hym toke with grete dyſpyte without the towne to lapidate Bleſſyd Stephan. &c. ¶ The curſyd Iewes at the laſt Stones at Stephan they gan caſt They bette hym and bounde hym faſt And made his body in foule aray Bleſſyd Stephan. &c.
¶ Whan the aungell Aue began Fleſſhe and blode togyder ran Mary bare bothe god and man Through the vertue of benygnyte. ¶ So ſayth the goſpell of ſaynt Iohan̄ God and man is made bothe one In fleſſhe and breed-blode and bone One god in perſones thre. ¶ And the prophete Ieremy Tolde in his prophecy That the ſone of Mary For vs ſholde dye on tree. ¶ He hath Ioye to you graunted And in erth peace hath plaunted whan yborne was that faynted In the londe of Galilee ¶ Mary graunte vs the blyſſe Where thy ſone dwellynge is And of that we haue done amyſſe Thou pray for vs for charyte. ¶ Finis.
❧ Salue regina mater miſericordie. Vita dulcedo et ſpes noſtra ſalue. O Very lyfe of ſwetnes and hope Of thy mercy ſende vs a drope As thou bare Ieſu yt our kynd dyd grop Salue regina mater mīe. vita. &c. ¶ Vnto our helth thou bare that chyld With ſpot of ſyn thou were neuer defyld Mary mother bothe meke and myld Salue regina mater mie. vita. &c. ¶ We ſynners lady to the we crye In this world to haue mercy we ſynge to the yet or we dye Salue regina mater mie. vita. &c. ¶ To the we call euer at our nede A frende ſpecyall for all mannes nede Thou floure on felde of Adams ſede Salue regina mater mīe. vita. &c. ¶ Thy eyen of pyte from vs not hyde Whyle we here in this world abyde Thou gouerne vs and be our guyde
THis voyce both ſharp & alſo Shalbe herd from heuen to h. All mydle erthe it ſhall fulfyll Venite ad iudicium. A voyce. &c. ¶ Venite is a blyſſed ſong For them that for ioye dooth longe And ſhall forſake paynes ſtrong Venite ad iudicium. A voyce. &c. ¶ Glad in hert may they be Whan Chryſt ſayeth Venite ye blyſſed chyldren come to me In to vitam eternam A voyce. &c. ¶ whan I hongred ne gaue me meat ye clothed me agaynſt the weat In trouble ye dyde me not forgeat Venite ad iudicium A voyce. &c. ¶ ye ſocoured me at your doore And for my ſake gaue to the poore … rfore wyll I you ſocoore Venite ad iudicium. A voyce. &c. ¶ Sory in hert may they be That hereth this heuy worde, Ite ye curſed chyldren go fro me Into ignem eternum A voyce. &c. ¶ Whan for nede that I dyde crye Confortleſſe ye lete me dye Therfore now I you deny Venite ad iudicium A voyce. &c. ¶ For by me ye ſet no ſtore ye ſhall abye ryght dere therfore In hell with deuyls for euermore Venite ad iudicium A voyce. &c. Finis.
Ieſu Chriſte fili dei viui miſebis. Alleluya. MOoſt ſouerayn lorde Chryſ •• ▪ Born of a mayd yt euer was true With grace and goodneſſe yu vs endue That now ſingeth this. Miſere nobis. Ieſu chriſte fili dei viui. ¶ Lorde of mercy by propre condycion That of mankynd made the redemption Graunt vs now this petycion That now ſyngeth this. Miſere nobis. Ieſu chriſte fili dei viui. &c. ¶ Ieſu preſerue vs / and be our ſpede With grace to ſocour vs at our nede To do thy pleaſure in worde and dede That now ſyngeth this. Miſere nobis. Ieſu chriſte. &c. ¶ Puny • ſh not ſynners by thy myght But with mercy medled with ryght So that we may lyue in thy ſyght That now ſyngeth this. Miſere nobis. Ieſu chriſte fili dei viui. &c. • od graunt vs repentaunce • nd ſpace for to do penaunce And good lyfe to haue contynuaunce That we may ſyng this. Miſere nobis ❧ Finis. ❧

depiction of the risen Christ

¶ A voyce from heuen to erth ſhall com Venite ad iudicium.